


Whiskey for Your Memory

by Das_Silberschlussel



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: 156 scene extended, Alcohol, Angst, Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post The Letter, spoilers for one scene in Japan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27429307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Das_Silberschlussel/pseuds/Das_Silberschlussel
Summary: “To Sasha.” Hamid says, tears still brightening his eyes as he holds out the glass in a toast.Obviously this is for Sasha, but it reminds Zolf of when he first mourned her passing, when he mourned Hamid's passing. And even before then, when he mourned all of the others he had lost over the years. Another glass of whiskey, another somber moment where he was forced to look at the truth that he would just keep losing people. That was one of the big reasons he had chosen to break with everyone in the first place – he hadn't wanted to watch them die like everyone else; and yet, here he is: mourning.“Yeah, to Sasha.” Zolf's voice is quiet, almost swallowed by his own guilt and sorrow before he too reaches out and taps Hamid's glass with his own.
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan & Zolf Smith
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Whiskey for Your Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Sav for making all of my tenses be as correct as they could be, and generally being awesome.

With the memory of Sasha's letter still on his mind, Hamid grabs a bottle from one of Carter’s many stashes around the inn. Whiskey isn't usually his go to alcohol, but this situation seems to call for something this strong. A toast to a late friend, and perhaps the foundation for a bridge to be rebuilt.

He pauses for a moment as he looks over the label before ultimately deciding to grab the glasses instead – something to draw out the conversation and to ensure that he could linger – something for old times.

He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves before knocking on Zolf's door; some part of him is afraid that the Dwarf will just turn him away, like he had done before. However, feelings like his aren’t meant to be kept bottled up, they are meant to be drunk or spilled openly into the arms of another.

The few seconds that it takes for the door to be pushed aside are torture for the Halfling as he fidgets silently. A small piece of his mind is telling him that it was a stupid idea in the first place; and another part of him is trying to loudly drown that entire sentiment out. This is a necessary step for healing, for reconciliation, for another chance at happiness.

“Yeah, what?” Zolf's sharp tone cuts through Hamid's internal monologue like Sasha's knives had cut through any who had stood against them.

Hamid steels himself, he isn't about to break down in the hallway – he had grown since those days. Instead he weaves around and under Zolf's arm and into the room. He pointedly keeps his back to the dwarf as he places the two glasses on a nearby surface and pours the whiskey.

With a roll of his eyes Zolf slides the door shut and turns around to be greeted with a large glass of whiskey being handed to him.

“Hey Hamid.” Zolf says as he takes the glass and just looks at it for a moment before his eyes slide off to the side table where Sasha's letter is folded, tear stains no longer visible on the parchment.

“You're a big idiot.” Hamid points at Zolf from across the room. All of his thoughts swirling in his head, a whole monologue slowly fading as his resolve narrows down to the hand that is holding his own glass of whiskey.

“Okay, not how I expected this to start off, but fine.” Zolf can feel the tension in the room, though his own eyes drift down to the glass he has taken.

“To Sasha.” Hamid says, tears still brightening his eyes as he holds out the glass in a toast.

Obviously this is for Sasha, but it reminds Zolf of when he first mourned her passing, when he mourned Hamid's passing. And even before then, when he mourned all of the others he had lost over the years. Another glass of whiskey, another somber moment where he was forced to look at the truth that he would just keep losing people. That was one of the big reasons he had chosen to break with everyone in the first place – he hadn't wanted to watch them die like everyone else; and yet, here he is: mourning.

“Yeah, to Sasha.” Zolf's voice is quiet, almost swallowed by his own guilt and sorrow before he too reaches out and taps Hamid's glass with his own.

The two turn their glasses skyward and drain the whiskey in one go. Then Zolf reaches over, takes the bottle and refills the glasses. This part of the ritual of mourning he is used to, and though he doesn't let it take him as often as it used to, the actions are still rote.

On the third pour, Zolf realizes that Hamid isn't just looking to mourn a friend with whiskey and maybe some light drunken conversation – the halfling is intending to get absolutely trashed. From experience, Zolf knows that this isn't the smartest move to make, but at least Hamid has decided to do it with a cleric nearby. But he’s also been in situations like this before, and knows it needs a bit of a push from his side for anything to actually get resolved.

“So, what, mate?” Zolf asks, looking at Hamid over the rim of his own glass. It is the smallest amount of prodding he can give to the other; but even then, it should be enough.

“Yeah. Zolf you have to remember tha'yer my friend.” Hamid starts, already tripping over his words a little as the alcohol hits him, “And yer my... role model for all of this and,” he pauses, a sigh cutting through the words before a slower sip, “ya don't... need... to worry so much, yer doing fine and just cause I say when stuffs gettin' on my nerves... and fings it doesn't mean that ya-ya bad and  _ wrong _ , is just... stuff to work on like I've got stuff to work on.” The words spill out of him, like a cascade of pleading.

Hamid looks to Zolf, hoping that the dwarf will be able to say something that’ll help put everything right. Their relationship could be repaired and maybe everything could go back to normal, regardless of the history they had shared.

“Okay” Zolf says, shifting awkwardly away from the teary eyed halfing. “Erm, it's um... yeah... This isn't about me getting' you upset, er, so, ya ain't gotta worry about that,” he says, fingering the glass with one hand and running the other through his short white hair while trying to piece together exactly what he could even say in this situation. The fact that it isn’t going to go over well is just another fact of life he’s going to ultimately have to deal with. “And erm,  _ look _ , if I hadn't read that letter just now then I probably wouldn't be talkin' ta ya to be honest, but look, just...” He trails off with a scoff that he feels with his entire body. This isn’t the sort of late night drinking he had intended.

“We've gotta find a way together...”

Hamid's train of thought is cut off by Zolfs quick fire nonsense words. The dwarf takes control of the air waves and it’s obvious he doesn’t want to hear what Hamid is trying to say. There’s too much pain in the relationship, a year and a half of baggage still sitting on his shoulders that he just isn't ready to deal with at this point in time. It’s hard enough coming to terms with the apparent resurrection of a friend, fixing the relationship is going to need to wait.

“Alright, this is not... ah... talk it out and it's all fixed, okay?” Zolf can feel the tiniest twinge of a headache starting. This is nothing like how he would have imagined this conversation to go, even with a year and a half of imagining and dreaming... To think he had finally moved on from it all.

“I know!” Hamid screechesThe frustration starting to rise in his draconic blood makes the words into something more of a howl than anything else – another change that he unconsciously makes.

“Ah ah ah.” He starts trying to get Hamid to calm down a little, cutting off the extended screeching and moving in closer so the draconic halfling can feel his body heat and tone it down just a bit. “But, thank you for sharing the drink, thank you for coming to see me. Imma work on it. For now let's just.... call it there, alright?” He rests a hand on Hamid's shoulder – a move he had dreamed about for months, and in this moment actually seems right.

Hamid doesn’t push the hand away. Instead he drains his glass again and turns into the dwarf, transforming the comforting weight of a single hand into a half hug as he pressed his body against Zolf.

“Zolf, I was so...so angry at you,” he says, tears only just starting to spill out of his eyes as he shoves his face into Zolf's chest.

“What for?” Zolf's voice is quiet, reassuring even. He doesn’t always have the best bedside manner, but he can help people down from anger, and this seems right. Besides, it had only been a few weeks for Hamid.

Zolf is willing to put his own emotions away for a moment, revel in the sacrifice of his own thoughts to build up another – it isn’t  _ his _ hope that matters in this moment.

“For the leavin'. Leavin and then–” The syllables escape Hamid, as he tries to grasp his own emotions through the haze of whiskey. “An' my sister died in Prague. Sasha, nearly dead, an' I was so angry but... I do get it, I do get it, Zolf, an' ya've change’ and I can see how much you've changed. And ya doin' so good, and ya... Zolf.... I dun know wha' I'm sayin'. I just... I hate that we can't...get on.”

Zolf plucks the glass from Hamid's hand and places it on a table along with his own unfinished glass.

“Alright, then we'll work on it. Why don't you just, look, jus...” He breathes out the words, for not the first time wishing he had a bard's power to influence with speech. The words themselves are low, pleading to get Hamid onto his side. They can work on their issues, repair what they have, and what they can have again – it will just take time and sobriety.

“I don't want you to leave'e again.” Hamid's jumble of words rings clear; and although it isn’t something that Zolf had really put any thought into he still looks down at the halfling he’s holding against him.

“I'm not gonna leave again, so just...” he whispers to Hamid, managing to make eye contact for a moment before the drunk halfling pushes himself up closer to Zolf's face and cuts him off with a kiss.

“I don't want you to leave  _ me _ again,” he says again this time with emphasis through the anxiety and stress coloured slurred words.

“God you’re a lightweight,” Zolf says under his breath, while trying to process exactly what had just happened.


End file.
